


This Fire Burns

by orphan_account



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Declarations Of Love, Episode Tag, Friends to Lovers, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kayfabe Compliant, Kidnapping, Love Confessions, M/M, Non-Consensual Violence, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Past Drug Addiction, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-18 21:39:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7331569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eddie Guerrero has been feuding with the obnoxious Texan millionaire John Bradshaw Layfield and is frankly, sick of him. He knows he is a better wrestler than him and he knows that he won't lose the WWE Championship to JBL at the Great American Bash.</p><p>However, Bradshaw is determent to bribe Eddie into letting him win, and will do anything for that satisfaction...</p><p>...Even hurting the man Eddie loves most.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Only You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie Guerrero finds out just how far JBL will go, for the WWE Championship...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This fic contains non-graphic Non-Con themes, and rape recovery. Proceed with caution.
> 
> This fic is not in anyway meant to glamourise rape, and I would strongly condemn anyone who takes the issue lightly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

To say Eddie Guerrero was sick of JBL was an understatement.

 

The Texan had become a thorn in his side, determent to get steal the WWE Championship from him no matter what.  Eddie had found it almost fun at first, messing with him, but now he was just sick of it. 

 

He'd worked so hard for the belt, given up everything for it. It was a symbol of his redemption from a past of pain killers and alcohol, a symbol of the man he'd become. To think he could lose all that to a pompous millionaire, the mere thought made him sick.  

 

He honestly hadn't minded Bradshaw when he was part of the Acolytes, he had no reason to hold anything against him. If nothing else he could be fun when you got a few beers in him. But this sudden transformation after he and Farooq split up, it boggled Eddie's mind as to how someone could become so obnoxious, so quickly. He supposed Bradshaw's true colours had finally came out without Farooq around to keep him grounded; and Eddie being the champion, as well as Latino, had ended up taking the brunt of his abuse.

 

And now, here he was. That _bastardo_ , Angle, had put them in a match at _The Great American Bash,_ and JBL was going to get to choose the stipulation. Was everyone really so out to get him? 

 

That's what happened when you were the top guy, wasn't it? What he wouldn't give for the days of tag titles.

 

Whatever. He'd just have to keep his head held high. He _would_ beat Bradshaw, he'd do anything - even lie, cheat and steal. He'd show JBL, Angle and everyone else that he was a worthy champion and he'd keep the belt for another day.

 

After all, Bradshaw may have been tough, but he couldn't out-wrestle a Guerrero.

 

* * *

 

 Eddie made his way out of the locker room, car-keys and duffle bag in hand, belt slung over his shoulders. He waved to the handful of left-over crew members as he made his way to the back door. It was getting very late, and he, quite frankly, just wanted to go to his hotel room and get some sleep before he woke up early the next morning.

 

He was out of the building and almost at his car however, when he suddenly realised someone was following him.

 

He froze, and was about to turn around and find out who it was _,_ when he was whacked over the head, hard, with a Singapore Cane. 

 

He fell to the ground, and the last thing he heard before he passed out, where the words, "Got him, Layfield."

 

* * *

 

 Eddie awoke with a start.

 

He looked around, panicked, and quickly realised he was in the backseat of a car.

 

_At least I'm not tied up in the trunk._

 

In fact, he wasn't tied up at all... what kind of kidnappers where these?

 

 _JBL's_. He remembered the man's words.

 

He rubbed his aching head, and then made his presence heard. "All right you _Pendejo, Qu_ _é chingados_ is going on here?"

 

The man driving turned around the face Eddie, and he could see that he was clad in all-black.

 

"Guerrero, right?"

 

Eddie just nodded.

 

"Look, I was just hired by John for a job. I don't know much about anything that's going on. But Layfield told me to tell you that he just wants to talk. That's all. He just didn't think... your kind... would co-operate."

 

Your kind? Eddie was going to punch that Hijo de Puta in his smug face.

 

"Yeah well, I'm not much in the mood for talking to someone who sends people to attack me..." He then realised that his belt was still sitting beside him, and grabbed it, clutching it like a baby.

 

"We're pulling up," was all JBL's hired goon said, and they pulled into a mansion.

 

Is this...?

 

They must've been in Texas. How long was he out for? He clutched his head again, attempting to nurse his headache, and finally realised that the sun was rising.

 

 _Idiota_! You've been out cold all night.

 

_Dios, Chavo and Rey are probably worried sick._

 

When the man parked the car, he got out and opened the door for Eddie, escorting him inside the mansion.

 

"Get away!" Eddie shoved him and stormed on, determent to find Bradshaw. He knew was a dick, but kidnapping? That went too far.

 

"JBL!" he screamed, "Get the fuck out here!" He used the English swear for emphasis. "Face me like a man!"

 

"Ah, Guerrero!" Bradshaw walked out with his arms spread and a fake smile plastered on his face. "Good to see you!"

 

"Don't lie," Eddie glared, "I don't have time for your games. Just tell me what you want."

 

"Alright then," he spoke with a Texas twang. "I'll lay it straight. I want-" he pointed, "That belt. Our general manager wants me to have that belt. I want to have that belt. And I will do anything to make sure that happens."

 

"Well," Eddie held the belt closer, "You're not getting this belt. It's mine - and I am not going to lose to an egomaniac like you, I'll make sure of that."

 

"That's what I was afraid of... 'yer nothing else, Guerrero, if not stubborn, and I know you'll probably cheat to win like 'ya always do." JBL looked him up and down, "Exactly the reason 'yer are not fit to represent Smackdown. 'Yer a cheater. I, however, am smart, motivated and..."

 

"...White?" Eddie raised an eyebrow, "Rich?"

 

"Respectable."

 

Eddie rolled his eyes. "So, you want the belt, whatever. You could smack-talk me backstage. Why'd you go through all the trouble of bringing me to your house?"

 

"Well... that's the thing," JBL ushered for Eddie to follow him, which he reluctantly did, "I... quite simply, want you to let me win. Drop the belt"

 

Eddie let Bradshaw's words sink in and momentarily seethed, before being overcome with laughter, "Let you win?" He slapped his knee, " _Dios_ , what makes you think I'd do that."

 

"Because," Bradshaw's voice darkened, "I'll make your life a living hell if you don't. In fact... I've already got a little... let's say... incentive, for you to do so."

 

Eddie's stomach dropped. What did he have planned?

 

"I've been researchin' Eddie, tryna' find somethin' that'll make you tick... a secret, perhaps. And it was hard, because you've been so open about your problems and addictions..."

 

Eddie groaned.

 

"In fact, I was thinking about perhaps threatening to somethin' to 'yer family."

 

Eddie was overcome with rage at those words, and charged towards Bradshow, "You bastardo, I'll-"

 

"But I'm not!"

 

Eddie froze.

 

"I won't touch 'yer family. Women and children? I'm not a monster," He laughed, "But, I did find out something else. A secret, you've kept close to 'yer heart."

 

Eddie began to sweat nervously. A secret? What secret?

 

"A certain... someone..." he muttered, "And I was originally just gonna threaten to reveal this secret. But then I had another idea. I've been very busy since Monday, Eddie..."

 

"...What-"

 

"Go down to the basement."

 

Eddie looked at the staircase Bradshaw was pointing to, before slowly making his way down. He, with shaking fingers, began to open the door, dreading what he would find. A million thoughts racing through his head. 

 

He opened the door, to find a large, but surprisingly dark and dreary room. He made his way in with soft steps and was caught out by the smell. It was filthy. He focused on breathing calmly, before calling out. "Ola! Is anybody here?"

 

No answer.

 

"Hello?"

 

He walked further into the basement.

 

"Hello?"

 

Suddenly, he noticed a figure into the corner. It was too dark to see who they were, but he was sure they were tired up.  Eddie's heart sank.

 

Who-

 

It was then that the figure began to move, waking up.

 

"Hello," Eddie said, "Who's there?"

 

The figure responded with a groan, "...Please... stop... don't... hurt...-" Their voice died.

 

Eddie froze.

 

_No._

 

There was no way.

 

It couldn't be.

 

Eddie gathered all his courage and let out a single word. 

 

"Chris?"

 

He responded with another groan. "No..."

 

"Chris, it's me... Eddie..."

 

It was then that he sat up straight. "E... Eddie?"

 

Eddie finally found a small light and switched it on, greeted with his biggest fear.

 

Benoit sat, tied up in a chair, in nothing but a dirty pair of boxers, body covered in sweat, blood and bruises.

 

Eddie dashed over to his friend, and pulled him into a hug. "Chris! It's okay... I'm here."

 

Chris stilled, stunned in shock, before he broke down sobbing. "E-Eddie? Is it... really... you...?"

 

"Yeah... _amigo_ , it's me..."

 

"Oh God, Eddie!"

 

Eddie clutched his friend for a moment, before snapping back to reality, realising where he was. It was then that he quickly let go of Benoit and charged up the stairs, _Latino Heat_ in full effect. He ran towards JBL, and hit him with the biggest punch he'd ever delivered. "You _Cabron_!"

 

Bradshaw fell to the ground, blood pooling from his noise. 

 

"How dare you?" he screamed, " _Qué chingados_? What the fuck his wrong with you?" His screams quickly turned to sobs, "How dare you?"

 

"Eddie..." JBL stood up and wiped his noise, "Look, I'm sorry. I ain't got nothin' against Benoit. He was just a means to end."

 

"Why him?" Eddie spoke coldly.

 

"I know."

 

Eddie stiffened. "What?"

 

"I know how you feel about him."

 

Eddie stumbled backwards, "You don't know anything, _culo_."

 

"I do."

 

"...How'd you find out?"

  
  
  
"I have my ways. I _am_ a millionaire." He laughed again.

 

Eddie once again charged forwards and began hitting JBL. " _Bastardo_!"

 

"-G-Guerrero. C-calm down! I'll let him go."

 

"...What?" 

 

"I'll let him go! I just... want..." he pointed to the belt Eddie had dropped to the floor during his assault, "One thing."

 

Realisation hit Eddie. He wants me to give him the belt in exchange for Chris.

 

Eddie may have been stubborn, but in this situation there was no choice. "Okay..." He whispered, fisting his hands.

 

"...What?" JBL froze.

 

"Okay, I'll let you win. Just, please, don't hurt him."

 

"That was easy!" 

 

"Yeah, well, unlike you, I care more about friends than belts."

 

"Yeah Eddie... friends..." He smiled, knowingly.

 

"Shut up and give me a knife."

 

"Guer-"

 

"Knife!"

 

JBL left and quickly came back with a knife. Eddie picked it up and ran down stairs, quickly cutting Benoit's ropes. "It's okay," he said softly, "You're okay..."

 

Benoit clutched his friend, "I thought you weren't coming back!"

 

"Of course I would."

 

"Eddie.... I... I thought you'd never..."

 

Eddie stroked his back, "I... I didn't know Chris... I... what happened?"

 

Eddie noticed Chris flinching at the touch and pulled away. The two kneeled on the ground, as Benoit spoke. "I... I don't know. I was leaving Monday to go home after Raw, and I stopped at a gas station, and I got ambushed.  Next thing, I know, I wake up here, tied up, beat up.... he got me to call Nancy and tell her I was fine. I- I wanted to fight back... but... I think my arm's broke... Eddie, I'm so tired.

 

"I know, Chris, _Dios_ , I wish I could've stopped it." _Why weren't we on the same show?_

  
"...He got me to call her everyday and tell her I was staying with Dean. That we were working on stuff for the show. That Dean's phone was broke so call me. That Dean was too busy to go on the phone. Every time she believed me a little less. I'm such a terrible lier..."

 

"Chris... what did he do to you?"

 

"I don't want to talk about it," was Chris' only answer.

 

Eddie frowned. "So do you wanna get outta here?"

 

"I'd like nothing more."

 

Eddie helped Chris keep his balance as the duo made there way their way up the stairs. Chris shrunk into himself when he saw Bradshaw, which caused Eddie to glare daggers at the man.

 

_Really, what did he do to you?_

 

"So, Guerrero..." Bradshaw grinned, "We have a deal?"

 

Eddie dropped the knife on the floor. "...Yes."

 

"..Deal..." Chris muttered, "Eddie... what is he talking about?"

 

"Oh," Bradshaw turned Chris, looking him straight in the eyes, "Guerrero here agreed to let me pin him at the Great American Bash!"

 

Chris' eyes widened. "Let him... Eddie! You can't!" His voice cracked.

 

"Chris, it's okay."

 

"No it's not, that's your championship... you... you worked so hard for it... you can't let him... no..."

 

"I can, and I will. I..." he looked down at the ground, his face burning, "I won't let him hurt you."

 

"...Eddie..."

 

Eddie reached up and clutched Chris' face and the two locked eyes. Eddie's free hand reached to Chris' and the two locked fingers. Suddenly, however, Chris pulled away, clutching himself, shivering.

 

"Chris?" Eddie's voice raised to a panicked note, as a million thoughts ran through his head, none of them good.

 

Chris breathed in and out, attempting to calm himself down, "I- I'm fine. Really, just..." his voice was barely audible, "...Don't touch me."

 

"Chr-"

 

"Don't touch me!" He cried.

 

 _Oh, Chris_. A wave a sadness washed over Eddie, which quickly turned to anger. _Bastardo_.

 

He turned to Bradshaw and spoke, voice dangerously low. "We're getting out here now." JBL went to speak, but Eddie cut him off. "Don't worry. I will drop the belt to you."

 

_Because I'm worried about what you'll do if I don't..._

 

"I will do that for you... and you... you _pejendo_... will give me a car... give Chris some clothes... and not bother us again."

 

"...Okay," Bradshaw answered. "See? We can come to an agreement, when 'ya jus' co-opera-"

 

"Shut up. Just..." Eddie sighed, picking his belt off of the ground, "...Shut up."

 

* * *

 

 Soon Chris and Eddie were in the cheapest car Bradshaw could find on short notice, driving down JBL's overly long drive way, Eddie mapping out the route to El Paso in his head.. Considering they were in Texas, it was Eddie's first thought as to where to go. Chris hadn't been given a new pair of clothes, Bradshaw would never be that generous. Instead he'd simply thrown Chris a dirty Oilers jersey and a pair of jeans - the same he'd been wearing when they'd taken him. 

 

Before they left JBL's mansion, a sudden thought occurred to Eddie, one that made him stop the car, pulling out his phone.

 

"What're you doing?" a tired Chris muttered.

 

"Calling the police."

 

"No!" Chris suddenly jumped out of his seat and grabbed the phone off of Eddie, clutching it like a rare gem.

 

"Chris, _ese_ , give me the phone."

 

"No!"

 

"Holmes-"

 

"Please Eddie. If... if anyone finds out what he did to me... if the company find out... God..."

 

"Chris," he repeated his earlier words, "What did he do to you?"

 

"I... It doesn't matter. Just... It's sorted now. Don't get the authorities involved... And don't call an ambulance either. It's nothing some pain killers and a sling won't fix..." Chris said, despite the dried blood and rainbow coloured bruises that covered his skin. 

 

Eddie nodded as his friend handed him the phone, but his face fell. JBL must've really messed Benoit up bad. The Canadian was one of the strongest, toughest men Eddie knew, and to see him reduced to a crying mess, it broke Eddie's heart. What kind of torture did Bradshaw and his cronies inflict on him? Eddie wasn't sure he wanted to know.

 

Before Eddie put his phone away, he took a quick look at his missed calls. Sure enough, there were a number from Vickie and Chavito, a few from Rey, two from Dean, and... one from Nancy. He made a mental note to call her first once he found somewhere to pull over. Now though, he was pretty sure that JBL had a security guy staring them down from the rear-view window, and just wanted to leave this place as soon as humanly possible. He sped down the drive-way, out the front gate, towards the freeway and out of Sweetwater.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, I wrote this chapter ages ago, but only got around to publishing it now.
> 
> I've always wanted to write a rape recovery fic, but was worried that I wouldn't present the issue with the seriousness it deserves. This is my attempt.
> 
> Interesting side note; Originally it was supposed to be reversed, with Eddie being the one who was assaulted. But I wasn't sure which of Chris' rivals should do it, so I switched the roles around. I have a weakness for making tough guys like Benoit more vulnerable anyway.
> 
> It's funny to me playing up JBL and Eddie's kayfabe hatred of each other, considering that they were very good friends in real life (he was even a groomsman at his wedding, Google it!). I also butchered my attempts at writing a Texan accent, sorry :P 
> 
> Also, this fic is Kayfabe Compliant (i.e. rasslin' is real, the outcomes NOT pre-determent) and I'm pretty sure JBL lived in New York at this time, but, whatever.
> 
> If you have any issues with the way the issues are portrayed in this fic, please, tell me! 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. Broken Glass, Shattered Mirrors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It seems like Chris is broken, and Eddie will have to pick up the pieces. It used to be the other way around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The recovery begins in his chapter... angst abound!

 

 

 

 

As the day turned into the evening, Eddie realised that they were nowhere near El Paso, and that they'd have to take up residence in a motel for the night. Luckily, Eddie had his wallet in his trouser pocket, so he pulled over to the first dirt-cheap looking place he could find and parked the car, nudging a sleeping Chris to wake him up.

  
"No..." he muttered.

 

"Chris, wake up."

 

"No... don't touch me!" Benoit cried.

 

"Chris, it's me!" Eddie spoke, voice still soft.

 

"No!" he awoke with a yelp before realising who was beside him and calming down.

 

"Eddie... I'm sorry," Chris spoke, gasping.

 

"It's fine."

 

"No, it's... it's not." He looked down.

 

"Chris, you didn't do anything wrong. I'm sorry for scaring you."

 

Chris turned away and looked out the window, "Where are we?"

 

"Some motel," Eddie shrugged, "It's getting late, so we can stay here for the night."

 

Chris nodded and unbuckled his belt, opening the door, looking away from Eddie the entire time.

 

* * *

 

When the two entered the grimy motel room, Eddie threw Chris a water bottle he'd gotten from a machine in the lobby.

 

"Here. Thought you might be thirsty."

 

"Thanks." He gulped down the water. "I'm gonna have a shower. Is that okay?"

 

"Yeah. I'll get you something to wear." Eddie was a bit reluctant about letting Chris use the shower on his own after his earlier panicked outbursts, but knew Chris needed a wash, so didn't argue.

 

Eddie picked up the duffle bag he'd fished out of JBL's hired muscle's car before they left and sat it down on the bed. He opened it through it, fishing a baggy t-shirt and a pair of sweats from out of it that was going to wear for training, sure they'd fit the taller man. 

 

His head was still aching and he was exhausted from hours of driving. He lay down on the bed, drifting off, until he heard a smash from the bathroom.

 

"Chris?" he called out, startled.

 

No answer, but instead what sounded like retching.

 

"Chris!" He jumped up and ran to the bathroom door, relieved when he found it unlocked. He was taken aback, when he found Benoit, bent over the toilet, vomiting. He was confused when he saw blood coming from his hands, until he noticed a smashed mirror.

 

_Did he punch it? Why?_

 

"Chris!" He kneeled down beside him, rubbing soothing circles in his back. "What's wrong man?"

 

When Chris finally stopped throwing up, he froze, and then pushed Eddie off of him. "Please... don't touch me..."

 

"Okay holmes..."

 

"I'm sorry... it's just... God, I'm such a fuck up."

 

"Your not... it's my fault... he went after you because of me."

 

_Because somehow Bradshaw knows how much I love you._

 

"I can't take a shower, Eddie," he sobbed, "I can't expose myself like that..."

 

"Chris..."

 

"I'll see the blood... see what he did..." he continued crying.

 

" _Amigo_ -"

 

Chris let out a bitter laugh. "I'm supposed to be tough! What would all the guys in the locker room think of me if they saw me crying like a baby..."

 

"Chris, you're tough but you're not invincible. You were... _tortured_. You have a right to cry."

 

_Besides, don't you remember comforting me when I was crying that I didn't want to die from an OD?_

 

"What will Nancy think? She won't want me. You won't want me. Nobody will..." His voice died.

 

"What do you mean...?"

 

"I can still feel him inside me."

 

Realisation hit Eddie like a truck.

 

_No._

 

There was no way in Hell.

 

"Chris... did he...?"

 

Chris broke down crying more, and Eddie knew it was true.

 

_The mother-fucking monster._

 

Everything made sense now; and it made Eddie sick.

 

_How could he?_

 

"Oh, Chris..." he whispered, "I'm so sorry." 

 

It made Eddie even sicker, feeling like he had no-one to blame but himself.

 

He wasn't sure what to do until he heard his phone going off.

 

Eddie jumped up, muttered a quick sorry, and grabbed his mobile off of the table top.

 

It was Dean.

 

" _Hola_?"

 

"Eddie? Is that you? Thank God. Chavo told me he couldn't find you and-"

 

"I'm fine, Dean, I'm fine! On my way to El Paso actually."

 

"Oh. Well, why didn't you tell anybody where you were going?"

 

"I was busy," was all he could think to say.

 

"Busy? Eddie, I've been trying to call you all day! Chris, he's-"

 

"Fine."

 

Dean paused, taken aback. "What?"

 

"He's fine!" Eddie swallowed at the lie. "He's with me."

 

"With you... But Nancy called me and said that he was acting strange. That he lied about staying with me..."

  
  
"Look, there was a big misunderstanding. We'll explain later, I promise. But he's right here," Eddie walked in and leaned down to a still-shaking Chris, frowning as he tapped him on the shoulder, "Chris, _ese_ , Dean's on the phone."

 

Chris blinked and wiped his eyes, before taking the phone off of Eddie. "Hello? Dean?"

 

"Chris? Thank God you're alright!"

 

"Yeah," he spoke gruffly, "I'm fine. Here with Eddie. We're going to El Paso. Call you again tomorrow." He pressed the 'end call' button.

 

"Chris!" Eddie yelled, "You hung up?"

 

"Sorry!" He flinched at Eddie's anger, "I-I didn't know what to do."

 

Eddie looked at Chris' reaction and a wave of guilt washed over him. "Ah, it's alright. We'll call everyone else later." He helped Chris up and smiled weakly. "Look, man, you really need to get washed... and your hands..."

 

Benoit clutched himself and replied, in a monotone voice. "You're right, but..." He wasn't sure what to say.

 

Eddie looked into Chris' eyes, the hurt in them bare. Eddie had to use all his willpower not to storm out of the room, drive back to Sweetwater, grab Bradshaw  and throttle him. The _bastardo_ deserved all the hurt in the world for what he clearly did to Chris. He'd probably kill him the next time he saw him.

 

It sickened Eddie so much, having that happen to the man he loved. He would never let Benoit out of his sight again if he could help it.

 

"Eddie... I'm disgusting...."

 

"No!" he screamed not caring if the people in the next room could hear, "You're not. This isn't your fault that he... that he..."

 

"...Raped me?"

 

Hearing the word made it that more real.

 

_Monstruo._

 

"God, Chris, I'll never let anyone hurt you again."

 

"I should've been able to fight back!" he cried.

 

Eddie couldn't help himself, and pulled the other man into a crushing hug, "It's. Not. Your. Fault."

 

Chris winced and Eddie pulled away, grabbing Chris' arm and pulling up the sleeve of the Oilers jersey, looking at the shear number of bruisers that coated him. "He didn't stop did he? You're getting a shower. And I know you don't want to go to a hospital, but I'm driving to the pharmacy, and getting... something," he shrugged.

 

Chris nodded, and made a move towards the shower.

 

"Can I be left alone? I don't want to be rude, but-"

  
"No man, I get it. I'm going to go out and buy some stuff. Are you gonna be alright alone?"

 

"I'll be fine, Eddie."

 

* * *

 

 Eddie drove a few miles down the road before finding an outlet that had among other things, a _7-Eleven_ , a _Wallgreens_ and a small clothes store. He bought food for he and Chris to snack on, a change of clothes for Chris as well as a first aid kit and some aspirin, the only thing he could find. He really wanted to drive his friend out to the hospital, especially after learning exactly what happened, but he knew Benoit wouldn't let him. The Canadian was nothing else, if not stubborn, and he knew that he didn't want anyone else finding out what had happened to him, that he saw himself as  _weak._

 

Eddie wanted to tell him that that was stupid, that he was far from weak and that he should get help. But he knew that he'd probably react the same way in the situation - probably even worse. 

 

So he decided that he would respect Chris' wishes and try and help him himself.

 

When he finally got back to the motel, not even an hour later, he called out Chris' name and instantly panicked when he got no reply. He flew open the bathroom door, and found Chris sitting in the bloody, dirty, bath, shower running, head resting his drawn-up knees, silent. 

 

"Chris, _esé_..." Eddie kneeled down beside the bath, resting his hand on his shoulder.

 

 Chris said nothing.

 

Eddie looked closer and noticed that Benoit seemed to have rubbed his skin raw. He sighed.

 

Eddie turned off the shower, and smiled weakly. "I'm pretty sure your clean now. You used that whole bottle of shower gel!" He pointed to the now-empty bottle of shower gel Chris must've gotten from Eddie's gym bag. "Here, I'll be right back," he said, running out of the bathroom and coming back in with a towel and the change of clothes he'd bought. "Just put on the boxers and top for now."

 

Chris nodded, but again, said nothing.

 

It was only when he came out of the bathroom, dried and dressed, that he began to, without warning, kick the living hell out of the wall, nightstand and bed, yelling profanities.

 

"Chris! Calm down!"

 

"No, Eddie!" He turned around, steel-blue eyes blazing, "I feel like I've been walking on eggshells all day... and this is only the start! Everyone's going to judge me... pity me... hell, their probably going to say _Why didn't you fight back!_ And why didn't I fight back! I'm supposed to be a champion... and all I am is a pathetic bitch, who let himself be used. I don't feel clean... I'll never feel clean. I hate myself."

  
  
"Don't say that!"

  
"You don't understand!" He screamed, "You can't understand!"

 

It was true.

 

  
"S-stop," his voice softened, "Stop being so... _nice_. I'm sick of it. You should hate me."

 

Eddie reached out and intwined his fingers with Chris'

 

"Why would I? I'm the one who feels guilty..."

 

"Because I'm weak." He spat.

 

"Chris..." Eddie looked at the ground, flushed, "Remember, when, I was so fuckin' messed up... When I thought I was going to die? With the drugs... and the booze?"

 

"You said this earlier."

 

"Yeah, and now I'm going to say it again. It was you who stuck by me no matter what. You who always looked after me, you who motivated me. Remember when you got me fired.... or when you told me that _this wouldn't be what Art wanted_?"

 

"Eddie..." Chris voice shook with regret.

 

"No! No!" Eddie flailed his hands, "I thank you for that. I needed that push. I'd lost my family, most of my friends... losing wrestling... dishonouring Art... man, that was what I needed to finally get clean. You were what I needed to finally get clean. And why'd you do it man? I mean, Chavito I get, he's my _familia_ , but you? You put yourself through way too much for me."

 

"It wasn't too much. You're like family to me. You're my best friend. And I'd have done anything to help you."

 

"See!" Eddie beamed, "And this is the same thing. You are _my_ best friend. And you're right... I can't even begin to understand what you've been through these past few days." His voice darkened, "But I can see the pain that that... _bastardo_... caused you. And I'll do anything to help you. Because you'd do the same for me, right?"

 

"In a heartbeat."

 

The two locked eyes, before Chris looked away once more, and then, surprisingly, pulled Eddie into a hug.

 

"Amigo?" Eddie was confused by Chris initiating the close touch.

 

"I can still feel his hands. I want to feel you."

 

Eddie's face went scarlet.

 

_He doesn't mean like that, you idiota!  
_

 

Eddie hugged back, before pulling away and grabbed Chris hands. They'd stopped bleeding, and Chris had picked out the glass and wiped off the blood in the showe, but they were still grazed and could probably get infected. "How about I clean those for you?"

 

Chris nodded.

 

* * *

 

It was a few hours later and Eddie and Chris were curled up in the cheap motel bed, some B-movie playing in the background. 

 

After Eddie had cleaned Chris' cuts and gave him the bottle of aspirin, both had quickly called their wives on Eddie's mobile - Eddie had told Vickie that he'd been caught up after _Smackdown_  and was on his way to their house in El Paso with Chris Benoit, while Chris had told Nancy that he was staying with Eddie Guerrero (Eddie chimed in as proof) and would call her back tomorrow because his phone was nearly dead, although Eddie knew that it was really because he was exhausted and couldn't face talking to her.

 

On the one hand, he thought it was ridiculous and that she, of all people, would comfort him. On the other hand, he knew that complex emotions were running through his friends head, including shame.

 

Shame he shouldn't've felt, but did.

 

Eddie knew that, as non-sensical and frankly, self-harming as it was, he'd feel the same in Chris' situation. Therefore, he wasn't going to push for him to call her again, and let him reach that point in his own time. It was going to be hard for him to reach out to her, to confess to her what had happened, and Eddie would be there every step of the way, reassuring Chris that everything would be fine, and that he, and Nancy, and everyone else loved him.

 

After all, Chris had done the same for him, when he was battling his addictions.

 

When the movie ended, and the TV went to an informercial, it was Chris who took the remote and turned it off. 

 

"Can we go to sleep?" He muttered.

 

"Of course! I'm exhausted..." Eddie smiled, curling into Chris, before pulling back when Chris flinched.

 

"No, come back..." Chris whined.

 

"Are you sure Chris? I mean..." Eddie struggled to find the words, confused that Chris would want such a close touch.

 

"Please. I don't want to feel him. I want to feel you..." 

 

"Okay." Eddie couldn't deny that was happy that Chris wanted him to hold him. Eddie remembered years ago, on one of his worst nights, when Chris had carried him to bed. He was drunk, and out of it, and begged Benoit to hold him in his strong arms. Chris had agreed....

_"Oh, Eddie... okay but only for tonight."_

 

...And Eddie had never felt as safe and secure as he did that night.

 

He was pretty sure it was there, laying in his arms, that he realised that he loved Chris as much more than a best friend.

 

Now, knowing that Chris wanted to be held the same way? Well, Eddie only wished it was under much better circumstances...

 

Eddie wrapped his arm around Chris' larger frame, as Chris moved down a little, so as to nestle his head on Eddie's shoulder, shivering slightly. 

 

"Eddie... I'm sorry..."

 

"You have nothing to be sorry for..."

 

_I'm the one who should be saying sorry over and over for all the shit I put you through..._

 

The two lay in silence for a while, feeling the rhythmic beating of each other's heartbeats, before, finally, Chris spoke again.

 

"Eddie... I love you..."

 

Eddie's eyes widened.

 

"I-"

 

But Chris had already fallen asleep from the exhaustion of the past few days.

 

Eddie ran his hand through Chris' fluffy hair and sighed.

 

_He doesn't mean like that, you idiota! He couldn't! He just loves you like a best friend... That's all..._

 

Eddie placed a soft kiss on Chris forehead, whispering "I love you too", before he closed his eyes, and slipped off into a dreamless sleep...

 

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was surprisingly harder to write than the first chapter. I was trying to figure out what way Chris should act... I hope I was accurate to the symptons of PTSD...
> 
> In this next chapter, Eddie & Benoit go to El Paso; it does not go well.


End file.
